15. Gilbert
15
GILBERT
As I watch her disappear into a swarm of high schoolers, I feel a deep, protective tenderness for her, a desire to shield her from the the world.
Ashlynn Crane truly is an enigma.
Yet, underneath that hardened exterior and sharp tongue is someone who just wants to be understood. Yet, she’s not a very trusting person. She’s carved out little pockets of safe spaces in her life. Our home is one of those spaces. So too, is Brookfield Dance Academy. And that little café next to it that she’s obsessed with.
Bluegrass High School, however, is not one of her safe spaces. It’s time I got to the bottom of it.
The hallway buzzes with the noise of students chatting and lockers slamming. Posters for the upcoming prom and various clubs decorate the walls. I walk briskly past groups of students chatting and laughing, feeling out of place.
Finally, I reach Principal Richardson’s office. The door slightly ajar, the secretary/receptionist is nowhere to be found, an odd feat for this time of morning. I knock lightly before stepping inside.
The office is modest but orderly. A small window lets in a sliver of the morning light, casting a warm glow on the tidy desk and the room. Certificates and educational awards adorn the walls, along with pictures of past graduating classes dating back thirty years or so.
Nicole Richardson looks up from behind her desk, her sharp brown eyes narrowing slightly behind her glasses — which she pushes up the bridge of her nose.
“Gilbert!” She motions for me to sit. “What brings you here today?”
“Leland Roberson,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen slightly, and she leans back in her chair, her expression serious. “Yes. I heard about the arrest. A troubling situation, indeed.”
“It’s more than troubling,” I say, my frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Stalkers don’t just stop, they escalate. He already did, so why is he back?”
She sighs, adjusting her glasses. “Even criminals are entitled to an education.”
“I see.” I nod. “So, it was you who uttered that nonsense to Ashlynn.”
Her spine stiffens. “I did no such thing.”
I lift a brow. “ ‘Let bygones be bygones?’ That’s your solution?”
“He served his time.”
“This isn’t the only high school in the district. You could just as easily have had him rerouted to any of the other schools, or even the one closest to his home. I know for a fact that Bluegrass is the furthest from where he lives, so why is he here?”
“He likes it here.”
“Of course he does. He has easy access to his victim here.”
“And he knows to stay away from her.”
“Is that why he’s currently sitting in a jail cell for doing the exact opposite of that? And don’t even give me the ‘he was being a good friend’ speech.”
She sighs again, adjusting her glasses. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“You can start by putting some protective measures in place,” I say, my tone firm. “Security systems, maybe even a bodyguard for Ashlynn for when she’s on school grounds.”
I am serious about the first two. The last one was to gage her reaction.
Her brows knit together in a frown. “Gilbert, this is a public high school, not a fortress. Our budget is already stretched thin. We can’t afford those kinds of expenses.”
“That sounds like a you problem.” I lean forward, our gazes lock. “Which, frankly, could have been avoided if you hadn’t re-admitted him. In doing so, you put her safety in jeopardy. Don’t you care about that?”
Her gaze softens slightly, but she remains resolute. “Of course, I care. But I also have to be realistic. I have a school to run, and our finances are limited. However, it would help if she chipped in a little.”
Her meaning isn’t lost on me.
“That will not be happening. Are you suggesting that this is somehow her fault?”
“Of course not.”
“It sounded like you were blaming the victim.”
“No, the things you are asking for cost money. I was implying she could pay for her own security, or go somewhere else. There’s no reason for her to be slumming it at a public high school, when private school would be more suited for her needs.”
I can’t believe my ears.
It’s so much clearer now, all the things Ashlynn hasn’t saying.
“You know, it’s not just Leland I take issue with.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Her father’s housekeeper was assaulted a few years back because students from this school tried to force their way into her house when she wasn’t home. That wasn’t an isolated incident.”
“And those students were dealt with accordingly. Look, it’s not realistic to expect me to know what goes on off campus.”
“Which is why Bluegrass was not held liable then,” I point out, my irritation clear. “That excuse won’t pass muster a second time, especially since you re-admitted Leland knowing full well that Ashlynn has a restraining order against him.”
A beat passes, as she weighs her options.
She meets my gaze, her expression firm but sympathetic. “We’ll do our best to keep Ashlynn safe during school hours. We’ll increase vigilance, make sure she’s not alone during school hours, and work with both campus security and the local authorities. But a full security overhaul is beyond our capacity, and what happens outside school grounds is not my concern. That may sound harsh to a man of means like yourself, but Bluegrass High School is funded by the tax payers. We have to work within our limitations and consider the broader implications for the school.”
What I’m hearing is, the greater good far outweighs the safety of one student. Which, when taken out of context seems logical.
But she created this situation in the first place. It won’t end the way she thinks it would.
I stand. “I will be taking this up with the superintendent.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Do what you must.”
“And I will be pressing charges against Leland. Again.”
She picks up her pen and clicks it. Twice. Then, “I’m sorry, but shouldn’t that be Miss Crane’s decision? Last I checked, she’s eighteen.”
“And I’m her legal guardian. Try any of those underhanded manipulative tactics with her again, and you’ll answer to me. And in case I’m not being clear enough, you aren’t allowed to talk to her without me, Bonnie, or her lawyer present.”
She scoffs at that. “She’s my student.”
“And I have no doubt that you’ve abused your authority as principal for far too long.”
As I leave the office, a sense of helplessness washes over me. The casual dismissal of the danger Ashlynn is in gnaws at me, and I can’t put any stock in the so-called increased vigilance. That only goes so far.
I’m actually counting on Nicole not complying with that request. It should make things easier for the future. I weave through a sea of teenagers, my heat pounding with a mix of frustration and urgency. And as soon as I reach my car, I call the first person I can think of.
Will picks up on the fourth ring. “Long time no talk.”
His upbeat attitude is… something. “What can you tell me about the situation with Bluegrass High School?”
He blows out a breath. “Is this a serious inquiry or casual interest?”
“That’ll depend on what you have to tell me.”
“Then I suggest you stop by.”